


Reteaching

by aevumrhyme



Series: Pronouns [2]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Feels, Gen, Implicit/Slightly Explicit Noncon/Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Explicit Sex, Observants' A+ Parenting, Other, Sexual Abuse, you will get the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:25:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6086602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aevumrhyme/pseuds/aevumrhyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were going to make sure that he was going to his lesson...at any and all costs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reteaching

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Pronouns, so if you haven't read it...go back and read it or else you won't get anything. Otherwise, enjoy!

He's instantly terrified the moment one of the Observants roughly push him inside the portal. His hands trembled, quickly and violently as though they were belts on a treadmill going at Mach 5 speeds. Cold sweat dribbled down his forehead, drenching his hood, making it stick uncomfortably to his chest. More sweat drench through his hood, soon dripping inside his Clock, pooling around the gears and seeping between the teeth of the gears causing them to rust. Slowly, sweat fills the inside of his clock, slowing the hands on the clock down.

  
  
He knows that he's slowing down but he knows that he has to keep going. _"Keep moving forward,"_ he chanted to himself. It practically went against every nerve inside him screaming stop but fear of what the Observants will do to him is what keeps him going. Quickly, he glances at the Observants, who glowered at him and he gives out a deep sigh of relief that they haven't notice.

  
  
The hands on his clock nearly slowed down to a stop and he can feel his insides decelerating but he just _have_ to keep moving, _have_ to keep going, have t-

  
  
"Clockwork? Why have you stopped?"

  
  
Damn. So much for perseverance.

  
  
"Clockwork! Why have you stopped moving?" The Observant repeated again, floating in front of Clockwork. Clockwork is silent, unmoving as sorrowful red eyes stare up at him childishly (Because really, that's what he is: an overgrown child.) The Observant sighed loudly in irritation, becoming gleefully enamored when the boy scoots back, away from his tail in fear. _'Good,'_ he thinks. _'He should be afraid of what I'll do to him.'_

  
  
The insufferable boy bobs his Adam's apple before looking away from him, muttering something under his breath. Now is not the time for, as the humans would say, bumps in the road.

  
  
His tail flickered in vexation at the damned boy, who just couldn't follow simple orders. Didn't he understand that they were on a schedule and this display of theatrics was delaying them?

  
  
Of course not.

  
Things _always_ had to revolve around the almighty Time Master.  
  
Not this time. Clockwork would learn that he was not as important as he thought himself to be. There were more important ghosts that required the utmost attention than a second rate time master, more _important_ things to be done than babysit a Time Master who can't follow directions; these things that must be done: deadlines to meet, ghosts to watch over, meetings to be held- things that can't be completed because of an infernal, attention-seeking Time Master that can not grasp the meaning of anything.

  
  
If **_nothing_** else would penetrate the damn boy's skull, he would make sure that he violently rammed in Clockwork's head that the Observants were much more important than the Time Master deluded himself to be. And that would be the one thing he would enjoy. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he imagined what he would do to the Time Master, grinning maliciously at the bloody, broken and bruised image of Clockwork lying at his feet, begging for mer-

  
  
"Erebus!" A voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned his head, only to see the frantic look on his coworker's face. What could he have possibly have done to have caused such a frantic response from his co-worker?

  
  
"Erebus!" Cried out the other Observant. "Erebus, look at what you are doing! You're killing him!"

  
  
Erebus raised an eyebrow at his coworker's exclamation. Who was he killing? His eyebrow arched even higher in confusion. He possibly couldn't be killing any ghost and to think he was doing so was preposterous. He's transporting the Observants' employee for punishment for crimes committed against the Observants. His coworker, with a look of panic written across his features, obnoxiously points his head towards the ground. Erebus looks down towards the ground only to see his tail tightly wrapped Clockwork's neck, whose red eyes rolled towards the back of his head and he could feel Clockwork's body becoming lax under his tail's tight grip. A sick, sadistic sense of glee overcame him; he wanted his tail to grow tighter than what it was around the boy's neck, choking the insolent boy to submission and see the bruise around his neck as a reminder that Erebus was in control.

  
  
But it doesn't, his tail loosens it's grip around the Time Master's neck, the boy falling to the ground with a small thud and his tail reverts back to flicking itself in irritation. His co-worker picks up the boy, carrying Clockwork in his arms as they continue their trek through the portal. Erebus hid a smirk at the damned boy's unrest at being picked up, _'If that makes you uncomfortable, then what I have planned for you will surely be worse.'_ He thought to himself.

  
  
"Erebus, we are nearly there. Do you think you can hold yourself till then?" His coworker said calmly, raising an eyebrow at him.

  
  
Erebus ignores the heat rising and flushing across his cheeks, "Yes. I simply got carried away. That is all, let's keep going Gethen. The Head Observant won't like it if we keep him waiting."

  
  
Gethen nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, we must keep going. We know how... impatient he can get when one of us is late. And Erebus? Do keep your self-control. When we get where we need to be, then you are free to do whatever you want." He said coolly, adjusting the boy in his arms, continuing to walk while dutifully ignoring his flushed co-worker and the spluttering that was soon to come.

  
  
Gethen was silent, save for occasionally shifting the lump of ectoplasm known as the Time Master in his arms  and he heard the weak squeak of protest from said Time Master. He looks down at Clockwork, who's staring at him wistfully in despair with those luscious full lips and huge round ruby red eyes. Of course, leave it to Clockwork to make things more difficult with those luscious full lips and huge round ruby red eyes staring up at him meshing with the memory of a young Time Master begging not to be punished; bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful pout as ruby red eyes widened in childish despair.

 

  
"If only you'd listen to us the first time, then we wouldn't be here." He said aloud, however more so to himself than Clockwork. He wished he had listened so he wouldn't have to carry him to be punished and become induced by such an evolved tantalizing beauty that he knows he have can never have. Green fingers brush across smooth lips and his thumb brushes back to get another feel of those luscious full lips. Vividly lurid images flash in his mind of him kissing those soft lips- _'Oh God, such sweet succulent lips. So, so sinful.'_ \- exploring naked skin, electrifying sensitive caresses stimulating arousal.  
  
"Where are you taking me?"

  
  
Gethen shook his head, the lurid images leaving his head and he looks back down at Clockwork. "Did you say something?"

  
  
Clockwork nodded. "Where are you taking me?"

  
  
"I'm not sure."

  
"If you're not sure where we're going, why are you taking me there?"

  
  
"To be punished." Came the automated reply.

  
  
"Why?"

  
"Why what?" Asked Gethen.

  
  
"Why am I being punished? What did I do to get punished?" Clockwork mumbled from the folds of Gethen's robes.

  
  
"For your crimes against the Observants." Erebus hissed gleefully.

  
  
His panic shot up again like it did in the mall, breaths becoming shorter by the second, his oxygen now lodged between his chest and throat. What did he do to get punished? And by the Observants no less? His current panic spiked even higher as he mulled over what he could have done to warrant punishment.

  
  
Nothing makes sense because it doesn't add up. One plus one makes two and that's how this should work. Clockwork plus wrong action equals punishment, but there was no wrong action, yet he's being carried to his punishment. Something has to be wrong with his equation. Here he is, about to be carried off to be punished, for what exactly he's not sure. One plus one makes two and that's how this should work. The logic makes sense, it’s sound in theory so why is it not sound in application? Where is the wrong action that calls for punishment?

 

 Clockwork doesn't equal punishment. It _has_ to be Clockwork plus wrong action equals punishment. That's how the equation works.

  
  
"We're here!" Erebus sang gleefully.

  
  
_'Where is here?'_ Clockwork thought suspiciously. He turned his head from the folds of Gethen's robes only to see that they have arrived at the end of the portal. Cold, damp air hit his face but he can't take his eyes off the windowless room and the others like it.

  
  
"Remember the wonderful memories we had here, Clockwork?" Erebus said with a malevolent glint in his eye as his fingers slowly traced one of the iron bars. "I can't wait to make some more."

  
  
Clockwork could only swallow the lump that was rising in his throat and control the chill trickling down his back when Erebus spoke, his chilling words promising misery just like before. Intensely concentrating on keeping an outward appearance of stoic calmness, red eyes become slightly glazed when he hears the words, _"Throw him in."_ His body freezes in anticipation for being roughly thrown in, rocks and gravels skidding across his skin drawing ectoplasm from his system. But it doesn't happen, he is gently laid on the floor, arms chained and shackled to the wall. Hands gently ruffle his hair under his hood but before he could lean into the touch, the hand retreats back to where they came from. He looks up only to see two blurry green blobs standing at the door, closing the door behind them, shutting out the little light available. Clockwork's head falls back against the wall as his eyelids drooped heavily, falling into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

Tucker, with little interest in his PDA, tossed it on the bed before sitting in his bean bag, stretching out stiff muscles. Worry filled him. It had only been a few days since Tucker and Clockwork went to the mall and what he heard from the small ghost- at the time, he was considerably smaller- deeply disturbed him. What had disturbed him even more was the recollection of the events that transpired with the Observants. Seeing the bruises marring both cheeks made him wonder what lengths the Observants were willing to do to make him obey. Were they actually going  to go through their earlier threat of stripping his powers, taking away the time staff, practically taking away Clockwork's job? For what purpose? A show of power held over the Time Master? Things now to be implemented in order to keep Clockwork safe from the eyeballs, not that there were things put in place but look where those 'protections' had gotten them. Disrespected, bruised, and forced to give an identity which gave a sense of completion. Though the possibility that Clockwork had been threatened is something Tucker hadn't crossed off his list. He have to voice his concerns to the others as soon as possible.

  
  
Then there was Dan. He knows of the intense disagreement they had, both sides having valid reactions for the situation that was presented. Dan, no matter how many times he denied it, he was exactly like Danny when it came to arguments: extremely opinionated to the point it's not even funny, emotionally determined to get his point across to whomever he was arguing. From his fair share of arguments with Danny, he knew the only to subdue fiery ghost was to aggressively raise your voice at him. He also knows from his share of arguments with Danny, and seeing Danny’s blue eyes widened with hurt, Tucker is certain that the same hurt reflected in Dan’ red eyes and then hardened before acquiescing to whatever request was stated.

  
  
Tucker stood up suddenly. He knows Dan was currently at Vlad's mansion, most likely beating the stuffing out of practice dummies. Although Tucker understood that Dan was currently taking out his anger of the argument on the dummy rather than Clockwork; however, it was too little, too late. The damage had already been done. Now, Dan had to fix the hurt he caused. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Vlad's number.

  
  
Vlad picked up. _"Tucker, what is it you want?"_

 

  
Noting the sleepless irritation in the billionaires voice and the lack of formality, Tucker decided it would be best to state what he wanted. "Is Dan there?"

  
  
_"Yes, and Foley? I've noticed something was off about him. Is there something I should be aware of?"_

  
  
Weighing the pros and cons of telling Vlad, he knew there would have been absolutely no chance of Dan coming over without spilling the beans. So he told Vlad everything he knew, from the Observants to Clockwork's panic attack at the mall.

  
  
_"Hmm, so it's worse than I thought."_ Vlad stated simply.

  
  
Worse than he thought? "Worse than you thought? How so?" Tucker grounded out

  
  
Without hesitation, Vlad responded. _"Dan is much more aggressive than normal, which isn't to say he's not. He mostly spends time in the training room, only coming out to, as he says, sleep and eat. When Dan does come out, he looks absolutely Miserable with a capital M. Red eyes as if he was crying, barely touches his food and from the looks of it, he doesn't get much sleep. I simply fear that he's going to burn himself out over the anger and the guilt he’s ridden himself.  And now, Danielle fears him."_

 

"She's afraid of him?"

 

 _"Not afraid of him, afraid_ **_for_ ** _him. She told me last night she knows he was hurting but she feared he was going to hurt someone because of what he was going through.”_

 

“So what has she done in the meantime?”

 

_“Mostly, Danielle stayed with me, participating in what I was doing at the time.”_

 

“Well then,” Tucker began, “Do you think you can bring Dan over to my house?”

 

“ _Give me ten minutes.”_ Vlad quickly stated and hung up.

 

The geek stared at his phone in surprise at the abrupt manner Vlad hung up before waving it off due to how restless Vlad was. This also left him with the realization he had ten minutes to straighten his room before Vlad and Dan came over. Grabbing a pair of cargo pants off the floor, placing them in a hamper, he quickly got to work. Six minutes later, he saw the tell-tale signs of a portal being opened, cringing as he watched Dan and Vlad stepped through. Bags hung under their eyes, their clothes hanging off their body as if they just came out of a professional wrestling match and lost.

 

After the pair stepped through, Tucker guided Dan to his bed, then bidding the sleepless Vlad goodbye and surveyed as the billionaire left. The portal shrunk out itself out of existence with a _pop!,_ leaving Dan and Tucker to deal with the overwhelming silence.

 

"Well then," Tucker stated. "I heard about what happened with Clockwork." He said, in  hopes of rousing Dan to tell him what happened. Even though he already knows what happened, he needs to hear it from Dan.

 

"There's a lot of things that happen with Clockwork." Dan said dismissively.

 

"That is true, but there is one thing that I'm referring to."

 

"I don't know what you're referring to." Dan muttered, scooting back against the wall.

 

"Oh, really?" Purred Tucker.

 

"No." Was the answer, he noticed how the muscular ghost avoided making eye contact  as he normally does. Which meant he was hiding something.

 

Tucker intended to find out what.

 

"Since you can't remember, maybe I can help you out." Tapping his fingers on his desk, he look Dan directly in the eye and simply said, _“Observants.”_

 

Dan flinched. Not violently, Tucker silently registered, but he still flinched nonetheless. "Judging by your reaction, I think you're fully aware of what I'm referring to."

 

"Fully aware of what? How idiotic they are? I think we’re all aware of that.”

 

“It’s so amazing how obtuse you pretend to be."  Tucker threw his arms up shouting. "I know of the fight you two had.”

 

“So what?”

 

“I know that you got into it with each other. I know that you said things that _I’m_ not even sure you actually mean and I know that there’s someone you need to apologize.”

 

Dan rebelliously stared at Tucker before turning his head and pointedly staring at the wall.

 

“You don’t even care, do you. Dan?”

 

More silence. "Why should I even care?  I'm not the one who's kissing the hems of the bastards who treats me like a piece of shit and refuses to acknowledge I have an extremely important job that could practically determine whether the fucking universe ends or not. It's not me giving into what my employers want and forcing myself to give up an identity that I've longed to have accepted with people and one that gave me a sense of self. I'm not doing any of these things so why should I care?"

 

 _‘He does care.’_ “Sounds like a lot of emotion coming from someone who says they don’t care.”

 

“Well, I don’t.”

 

“Yes, you do.” Tucker half sung. "It's so funny how much you remind me of Danny. Always wearing his heart on his sleeve. In fact, you're just like him."

 

"I'm _nothing_ like him."

 

"Yes, you are."

 

"No. I'm. _Not_." Dan hissed, eyes narrowing into slits, snarling loudly with his fangs showing."I wish you all would stop comparing me to him. Stop comparing me to the human who didn't want me anymore so he ripped me out and threw me away when we were grieving."

 

Dan paused, then resuming his frustrated diatribe."I am **_nothing_** like Danny. I hate it when you compare me to him. It's like you're saying 'I'm not good enough for you' and then you give me something unattainable to be like. Then what always gets me is when I try so hard to be like him and fail, you stand there with this look of disappointment. Then it starts all over _again_ and you wait for me to mess up so you can sit on your pedestal, telling me how worthless I am."

 

 _"_ Dan, that's not true."

 

 _"YES IT IS! NOTHING I DO IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!"_ Dan's voice cracked and Tucker watched as warm tears roll down his cheeks, shoulders violently shake and quickened breaths become inaudible as he tries his best to prevent them from coming out as he is met with loudly hitched gasps.

 

Pushing himself off his desk, onto his bed, he spread his arms out grabbing Dan into a tight hug.

 

"Lemme go."

 

"No."

 

 _"LET ME GO!"_ screeched Dan.

 

"Not until you calm down."

 

Tucker hissed in pain as he felt Dan dig his nails into his skin. Tears began to wet his shirt when he heard soft mumbling come from under him. Stretching his fingers up Dan's back until he reached the shoulder blades, Tucker slowly began to rub his back in small circular motions.

 

Dan's shaky hands pushed himself off Tucker, attempted to look at the geek with red-rimmed eyes, looked away and warbled, "Why do you pretend to care?"

 

Rather than objecting the question, Tucker rose an eyebrow in surprise at the sudden question coming from Dan, filing it away for a later time. "I don't need to pretend I care because I actually do."

 

"Liar."

 

“And why am I a liar?” Tucker asked.

 

“Because,” His breath hitched at the notion of having to explain why he actually felt this way. “I can see the looks of disappointment you share with everyone when I fuck something up and I can _hear_ you whispering _‘How can anyone love that thing? A monster shouldn’t be loved.’_ You’ll go about your day, simply waiting for me to fuck up. Then everything I’d do to correct that mistake would only prove you right and nothing I do would actually prove to you that I deserve to be cared about.”

 

Tucker, still rubbing Dan’s back, stared dumbfoundedly at the response, wondering if these were the thoughts Dan had rattling around while he stayed at Vlad’s mansion. However, something was gnawing at his stomach making him doubt that Dan’s thoughts only surfaced now. Perhaps they’ve been around for a while, festering on his insecurities until it reared its ugly head.

 

Only way to know was to ask.

 

Grabbing Dan’s shoulder, he turned the other around so that he can face him. "Dan, I need to ask a question and I want an honest answer. Can you do that?" A slow, uncertain nod was his answer.

 

“How long,” Tucker started. “How long have you felt this way?”

 

Looking away from Tucker, he answered. “Since Clockwork let me out.”

 

The techno-geek sighed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, you and I need to talk about this. We _will_ talk about this, Dan.” Holding a hand up when he saw Dan begin to protest, he continued. “However, we won’t be talking about it now but after you apologize to Clockwork.”

 

"Sure. Whatever."

* * *

 

Coming to consciousness, Clockwork had rattled the chains shackled around his wrist, noticing that he could move his hands about two feet from the wall before he stretched the chains to their maximum capacity. He also noticed that his staff was missing and his _employers-_ as loathsome as it was to refer them- had probably it in their possession, which also meant he was going to be held in his cell for a while.

 

 _Shit,_ he was screwed.

 

The dim light above him flickered as the door opened and Erebus stepped through the door, a look of surprise flickered across the Observants face.

 

“You’re awake, hmm? Didn’t think that you were _that_ eager to make some more precious memories, but oh well.” With mock disappointment, he closed the door behind him.

 

“Clockwork, you do know why you’re here, right?”

 

Clockwork had barely managed to disguise his intense hatred for Erebus into apathy. “To be punished for my crimes against the Observants.” he repeated.

 

Erebus placed a hand over where his heart would be. “I’m surprised that something managed to stay inside that thick skull.”

 

“You’ll be surprised what manages to stay in my ‘thick skull.”

 

The Observant rose an eyebrow at the bold statement but refrained from commenting. Instead, he slowly pulled out a knife from one of his pockets, not yet revealing the object but rather keeping it in a balled up fist.

 

“What’s two plus two, Clockwork?”

 

He sees his subordinate stare at him in growing confusion at the simple arithmetic question. But the question has so much more complexity than how it presents itself and how Clockwork answers it determines his punishment.

 

“Four, sir.”

 

Of course the brat would pick four.

 

“Would you believe me if I said two plus two was five?”

 

“No sir.”

 

That was the problem. The brat had too much free will and thought too freely, something that was hazardous to the Observants and their plans. If the Observants said two plus two was five then it was fact, anything else was wrong and must be corrected immediately.

 

“I’ll ask again. What’s two plus two?” said Erebus, walking slowly towards Clockwork.

 

“Four.”

 

“Again, would you believe me if I said two plus two was five?

 

“No.”

 

For Clockwork, after that moment, things seemed to happen in a blur. At an inhuman speed, Erebus came towards him. He’s skidded up the wall and with it came a sharp pain in his stomach next to his clock. The sharp pain was then twisted slowly, eliciting a painful moan from the Time Master.

 

“The next time I say two plus two equals 5, then you will accept it without question.” _To say so otherwise is wrong._

 

 _And what is wrong must be corrected_ **_immediately_ ** _._

 

* * *

 

Dan had arrived at the tower not long after he talked with Tucker, hands trembling nervously at the notion of entering the citadel and having to apologize to _his_ best friend.

 

Sure, he had apologized to other people. The old lady he had accidentally bumped into on the way here, Mr. Lancer, Dash- He still didn't understand why he had to apologize to them, but that was in the past and that’s how it would stay- however those people didn’t _matter._ Dan never strived for forgiveness from them because he didn’t care they thought. Clockwork was probably one of the few people who he actively sought forgiveness from since he cared what the Time Master thought of him.

 

With fraying nerves, he opened the door and entered the tower, only to be met with an empty time room and no Time Master on sight. Wondering where they- _He,_ his mind corrected him- were, Dan searched every nook and cranny within the tower, again, only to find no Time Master in sight.

 

Back to where he started, Dan searches the time room again, this time for a note because Clockwork knows that it’s _not_ okay for him to leave the tower without writing a note telling him where he was so Dan won’t have a midlife crisis. That was what they had agreed on.

 

Dan doesn’t find any shred of paper, old or new, with Clockwork’s handwriting. He covers his mouth in growing horror, not wanting to mouth the possibilities of what happened to his best friend.

* * *

 

He’s in _The Box._ 6 and a half feet tall, 3 feet wide and 4 feet deep. Doesn’t leave much room for mobility. He’s pretty sure that they know and they could care less about his lack of mobility. It doesn’t help that he’s bleeding ectoplasm out his stomach like there’s no tomorrow.

 

 _The Box_ , unfortunately, is not foreign to him. It was his designated punishment, the ‘obey-immediately’ punishment used when he was a young child. Boxed memories and deep wounds of the punishment were freshly reopened as he thought of the box. Memory-him rattling the box pleading to let out, Memory-Observants mockingly laughing at him. He doesn’t need to see them to know they’re laughing at him.

 

As much as Clockwork hates to admit it, the Observants were smart in picking this particular punishment. They know how much it drives him insane doing nothing and being restrained in some damn box doesn’t help. He begins to rock slowly on his back, not caring if more ectoplasm might bleed out. It gave him something to do, something to focus on in this miserable box. If he had something to do, then he won’t focus on the pain or the box slowly closing in on him, and then he won’t go insane with fear like the Observants want him to.

 

 _The Box_ is floating now, he notes. Which is impossible, _The Box_ shouldn’t be able to do such things on its own, unless someone was carrying it. Before he can further think on it, he’s flung through the air, landing in something with a resounding splash.

 

It’s water.

 

Frantically, Clockwork bangs his hands against the walls as water begins to seep in. Rationale says it's useless but he has to make some valiant attempt to escape. Water levels now reached just below his clock, so it's not long before it enters his clock. At most, he has thirty seconds. Maybe he can persuade the Observants to have a change of heart before he drowns.

 

“Let me out!” he pleaded. Eight seconds

 

Silence. One that takes ten seconds. “No.”

 

Maybe not. Twelve seconds left. Banging what seems to be the wall of _The Box,_ again pleading to be let out, with a cold _“No.”_ as his answer. Five seconds left. Bobbing his Adam’s Apple, he scoots back as far as he can away from the water.

 

Five turn into zero when he feels the water entering his clock, causing him to immediately freeze. This is it. He was going to die here, warm tears streamed his face at the thought. His clock is nearly filled to the brink with water, the ticking slowing down to a near stop, and he now waits with baited breath for the pain to end.

 

Instead, _The Box_ is floating again and roughly tossed on the floor, its lock being unlocked along with him falling out on his side and the water drenching him once again. Painfully coughing, Clockwork wonders it this is what death is like. He looks up and comes face to face with an Observant, once again wondering if this was death, Hell or a hellish combination of the two.  

 

“What’s two plus two?”

 

Why were they asking him this? It was simple math if they ever put their minds to it, that is, if they even had a mind to begin with.

 

“Four.”

 

An Observant above him tsked in disapproval. “Seems that Clockwork hasn't learned his lesson.” A blood chilling grin eagerly tugged at his lips. “Again.”

* * *

 

They had all gathered at Vlad’s mansion upon hearing the news:

 

_Clockwork was missing_

 

Vlad led the teenagers and Dan into his dining room when Danny threw a rolled up piece of paper, catching everyone’s attention as it unrolled itself.

 

“This is a map of the Ghost Zone,” began Danny in a terse voice. “You’ll see where I circled on the map as places I thought Clockwork might be.”

 

Danielle squeezed in between Sam and Tucker in order to have a better view of the map, her blue eyes automatically glancing over to a large blank area of the map that was circled in red marker. “Danny, what’s this?” she asked, pointing to the area in question.

 

“I’m not sure what’s there, but I think something is there.”

 

“Danny,” Jazz piped in “nothing’s there.”

 

“Of course not, I haven’t a had a chance to map it.”

 

“What I think she’s saying is that why circle part of a map where nothing is there? What would possibly make you think that Clockwork could be there?” said Sam.

 

“It was when I took Clockwork out with me so he could help with the map. When we were coming over to that area, he started shaking like a leaf and he asked me to take him back to the tower. I don’t know what was there but whatever it was couldn’t be good if it affected him that badly.”

 

“You really think that he’s there?”

 

Danny nodded. “Possibly.”

 

“You should add Walker’s prison as well.” Dan added

 

“Why?”

 

“Observants ordered him to arrest me and Clockwork but we started a prison riot and broke out not long after we got there.”

 

“Possible revenge?” Tucker mumbled loudly. “But if that is the case, you shouldn’t be here. If Walker wanted revenge, he wouldn’t want revenge on just Clockwork. But rather, it would with both of you since you _and_ Clockwork started a riot in his prison and escaped, not solely one or the other.”

 

“But why would Walker do it now?” Sam said. “It happened a little over a year ago. Knowing Walker, he want it resolved quickly. Remember what happened at the camp?”

 

Vlad rose an eyebrow at the theories coming from the teenagers. He couldn't help but notice that the Observants were at the root of a lot of things happening lately. Perhaps, they shouldn’t be focusing on prison wardens or rotting castles but these Observants. Approaching the center of the table, he snatches the red marker from Danny and heavily circles the blank part of the map.

 

“That’s where he is.” Vlad said, looking up to unimpressed faces. He did have that problem of suddenly taking over things, he _should_ work on it, transform himself into a better person.

 

Though, not right now. Realizing he still has the red marker in his marker, he immediately jumps into his explanation. “If I was an employer who wanted to discipline my employee for insubordination, I would take them from their comfort zone into _my_ territory.” He began to draw out a dotted from Clockwork’s tower. “But there’s a problem: people are going to come looking for the missing employee. So I, the employer, throw false leads based on things that happen in hopes that you would think that the employee would be somewhere else.”

 

“Just like we did with Walker.” Danielle said, taking the marker and continuing the dotted line to the image of Walker’s prison.

 

“Exactly. And if I, employer, didn’t want  myself or my employee to be found, I’d go somewhere where no one can find me.” Vlad  said as Danielle  drew another dotted line from  Clockwork’s tower to the blank space.

 

“Okay, now that we know where he is, how are we going to infiltrate it? It’s not as if we can just waltz in there.” Jazz stated, frowning.

 

Dan’s ears perked up at the idea. “Well, you can...” he began, gathering everyone’s attention as he drew up a plan.

* * *

 

 

Time’s blurred over for him. Seconds, minutes, hours hold no significant meaning to him. If it was possible, he’d laugh at the irony of the situation.

 

Hands slide under his hoodie, crawling over his sensitive skin, and harshly gripping his hips. Low grunts tickle his ears as he felt his hoodie, the one thing that was protecting him from this, being phased off and thrown off to the side. Tired red eyes stare at the corner where the hoodie was laying.

 

“I want you to see what I'm doing to you.” Snarled the voice as his chin was turned to face the voice.

 

He looks up at the face, then quickly looked down to see hands fumbling with his belt.

 

It couldn't be happening. It couldn't, it wouldn't. “Erebus please _stop._ Think about what you're doing!” He screeched, hoping and praying that this was not going to happen because Erebus wouldn't go that far.

 

Right?

 

 _‘Oh, but he is. He doesn't care about what you want.’_ He mind thought, terror spreading throughout his body as he heard the _swish_ of his belt being pulled off his belt loop because he was going to do it. Immediately, his legs were drawn up to his chest, further angering Erebus.

 

“Stop it! When will you realize that fighting will get you nowhere?” Shouted Erebus, ducking from wildly flailing legs, choruses of terrified “No”s bellowed brokenly under him. If he were patient, he let the boy ease himself out of his panic-induced state.

 

However, that’s not who he is. He's impatient, hot-headed and there's something he wants and he wants it _now_.

 

Like a tiger pouncing on its prey, Erebus’ hands darted and successfully grabbed one of the boy’s legs, his fingers snaking down the leg until they've reached his foot. Fingers curl over the heel and toes, then suddenly twisting the foot to the point it’s bent at an odd angle. A painful howl soon follows.

 

“Shut up Clockwork, or else I'll break your other foot.” Erebus said darkly, a hand resting on the other foot.

 

It was silent between the two, before heavy breathing dominated the silence. Erebus’ fingers tug on Clockwork’s belt loop and then his pants were gone, laying next to his hoodie, hips, and pelvis exposed for all to see. “Sorry about what's going to happen next. Maybe if you were a good boy, I'd prep you but you've been so naughty. Naughty boys don't get prep time.” Crooned the Observant, smiling mockingly.

 

Tracing small invisible patterns down the boy’s thighs brought intense pleasure to Erebus as he felt the body underneath him shivering fearfully, fingers suddenly stopped. Erebus ghosted his fingers over the area, hiding his glee as Clockwork bucked under his knees. Who knew that the Time Master would something this badly? He grinned wickedly as he jammed a finger in, rotating it around before massaging a second and third finger in.  

 

Clockwork gasped softly at the sudden intrusion inside him, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, didn't his body understand that he doesn't want any of this? Why was his body betraying him by responding _that way_?

 

Suddenly the fingers were gone, a cool breeze hitting him where the fingers once were and he's being turned over on his stomach. He must have been asking for too much because something else entered him and-

 

_Those weren't fingers._

_Oh god, those weren't fingers._

 

It hurts so bad, being ripped and stretched apart on the inside. Tears that pooled in the corner of his eyes streamed steadily down his face as the other ghost set a consistent rhythm, loud squelching was all that could be heard.  Erebus muttered in his ear how much of a good boy he was, how tight he was and more empty sweet nothings. Some part of him wanted to vomit at the praise and the other part wanted to desperately hear that praise over and over again. He wished it would stop, a broken scream escaping him as something warm filled his insides.

 

“We should do this again.” Said Erebus as he straightened his clothes, looking down at the boy whose body is shaking like a leaf- from pleasure or fear he couldn't tell. Walking to the door, he stopped to glance at Clockwork before leaving the cell.

 

Outside, he saw Gethen looking blankly at him. The Observant smiled before stating, “Never have I felt so alive before now.”

 

Gethen snorted derisively. “We're dead.”

 

“That’s the point.”

 

“So, how was he?”

 

“Who?” Gethen glared pointedly at him. “Ah, him _,_ he had a lot of fight in him but after a few broken bones, he became putty in my hands. Surprisingly, he's quite the screamer-

 

 _‘Screamer?’_ thought Gethen, confused by Erebus’ choice of words. _‘What the hell?’_ Wanting answers, his eyebrow rose in perplexity. “What have you done?”

 

Erebus continued to prattling on, leaving Gethen unsure whether the other heard him or not. “I'm sure that he’ll be a form of stress relief among the other Observants. But first,” he turned his head towards Gethen, “I’ll leave you to him.”

 

A spectacular dark green dusted its way across the other Observant’s cheeks. “What?”

 

“Don't play dumb with me. I see the way you look at him during the time he’s been here. This is how I see it, either you take this opportunity now or you wait before you get another chance.”

 

Gethen looked down at his hands, hiding the uncertainty rushing in.  “I suppose so.

 

Erebus eyebrow rose in consternation. “You suppose so? You suppose so? I swear on the Head Observant if you don't go in there and get what you wanted, I'll kill you myself!” Shouted Erebus as he opened the door, pushed Gethen inside and promptly shut the door behind him, leaving a dazed Gethen in the doorway.

 

A low moan brought the dazed Observant out of his state of confusion. Gethen’s green eye blinked owlishly, looking down at the small, malnourished body sprawled brokenly across the floor, metal chains holding the young boy’s arms over his head.

 

Horrified at the sight, he rose a hand over his mouth to prevent his horror from being heard. Crouching down on the floor next Clockwork lying on his stomach, revealing the colorful bruises that artfully marred his back, sides, and legs. He should have known what Erebus would do to the Time Master; considering his co-worker’s violent nature, it shouldn't have been so surprising. His head hung low in shame and guilt. Perhaps, if he'd known then he could have prevented this.

 

Slender fingers brushed along Clockwork’s hips, occasionally brushing against broken and protruding ribs. His hands enveloped the boy’s frail, flipping him over on his back. Doing so, Gethen leaned against the wall, a sigh filled with exhaustion escaped, glancing once more at Clockwork’s body. Tenderly, he ran his fingers through clumps of silver hair, matted by ectoplasm and sweat in a strained manner. The Time Master leaned in on his shoulder, blowing the Observant away with his beauty, even if it was grotesquely marred from Erebus’ treatment.

 

With nostalgia sweeping over him, his eye closed remembering when Clockwork was a young ghost, a beautiful ghost, certainly the most beautiful one _he_ had ever seen in his existence. Then came Clockwork’s transition to boyhood to manhood. It was quick, painful, instantaneous, something he would probably never forgive the other Observants for. It was them who caused Gethen to miss out on seeing a crucial point in his Time Master’s life.  He opened his eye, again staring at the shackled man. Gently, he tilted the other’s head upward, leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Clockwork’s forehead, pausing as the Observant felt him stir and moaned in agony, face tightening in fear.

 

“Erebus, please stop! N-no more, _please!_ I’ll be good. _IT HURTS!”_

 

Green hands shook in a cold, silent fury. What had Erebus done that was so terrible to make Clockwork beg for mercy? How _dare_ he hurt him so, without mercy or consideration of his punishment? His trembling hands became worse by the second as he dawned on an unsettling truth:

 

His best friend _lied_ to him. Erebus had lied to him in his face; unsure of what he would do about it, he settled for staring at the wall and running his hands through Clockwork’s hair, frustrated erratic thoughts calming instantly.

 

* * *

 

 

Blearily, stress outlined across his forehead, Danny opened the map he carried, trailed a finger on the thin paper, tapping several images indecisively before definitely tapping one. He showed the next destination to Dan, who simply nodded in agreement, and flew after Danny.

 

Minutes later, they arrived. Danny stepped up to the door and knocked the door three times. They both heard agitated mumbling coming from behind the door as the knob turned.

 

“What is you want, young phantom? I’m pretty busy.” Said the voice.

 

Danny rose an unimpressed eyebrow. “We need your help, Nocturne.”

 

“Don’t you have a Time Master to go bother for help? Did you grow bored-”

 

Before Nocturne could finish his sentence, Danny raised a hand millimeters away from his face forming an ectoblast. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit today, Nocturne. Clockwork is missing and we think the Observants have him. From your previous encounters with them, I thought that you might have known about where the Observants are located, trust and believe that is the _only_ reason we are standing at your door. Now are you going to help us or not?”

 

Dan was floored by the younger’s actions and hard steely voice, silently wondering when Danny would actually resort to violence. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t, but was he always this violent and he was now picking up on it? The caped Phantom looked and had been consoled by the fact he was not the only one who noticed the change in Danny’s behavior. Nocturne, with an eyebrow ridged upwards, cautiously pushed the enraged halfa’s hand away.

 

“Observants, you said?” The dream ghost said smoothly. “Well then, I might be able to help. Come in.” Nocturne ushered the two ghosts in his lair, stuck his head out checking for any oddities and promptly closed his door.

 

* * *

 

He wishes he could die. There was no other purpose that he served other than a broken rag doll for the Observants to play with. His beloved role as Time Master was over, replaced by his employers and thrown away in a dark dungeon to be used as a stress reliever.

 

His new job is simple: do what they say, don’t fight back (Unless they want him to, gives them an adrenaline rush like never before was what he heard in a hazy consciousness as an Observant slipped out.), don't ask questions. Rules were terribly easy and complex to follow because not all rules were applicable to every situation.

 

Lifelessly, he rolls away from the chest filled with the strange contraptions, forcing the bile rising up his throat back into an empty stomach. Although the contraptions weren't being used-Nothing is being powered on-he absolutely hated it when they whizzed inside him, squelching loudly as it made contact with his skin, vigorously pumping in and out of him.

_BOOM!_

 

Screaming is what brings him out of his stupor, but, yet he can't bring himself to see what the commotion is about. It was probably another one of his employers’ tricks to see if he would try to escape. He was many things but stupid was not one of them. He knew better now. Nearly inaudible ectoblasts escape him, causing his ears to twitch in curiosity. Loud ectoblasts died away quickly, ears now flattened in defeated interested.

 

Maybe now he can die in peace.

 

“Clockwork? Is that you? Clockwork, what have they done to you?” Came a baritone voice, pitch slightly raised in what Clockwork can assume was horror.

 

 _‘Is that? No, it couldn't be.’_ Clockwork thought desperately. “Dan?” He croaked.

 

And then darkness consumed him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Poor CW! D: 
> 
> bug me on Tumblr @polyrhythmically


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